


On My Way

by Omnibard



Series: Midnight Blue [1]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: F/F, F/M, M/M, Multi, Other, Polyamory, and all loving each other, no really the whole thing is everyone having sex with everyone, polyship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-19
Updated: 2019-01-20
Packaged: 2019-10-12 23:49:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,757
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17477285
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Omnibard/pseuds/Omnibard
Summary: Drabbles and one-shots in the Midnight Blue AU





	1. Claustrophobia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompted in Discord by ProwlingThunder

“No, seriously, _please_ tell me we’re going in there.” Prompto said, and hated himself for every word.  He’d been here before, in this terribly comfortable place where he felt _okay_ enough with the group to let his mouth go on auto-pilot sometimes.  But then that auto-pilot fired off intensely sarcastic and unhelpful comments whenever he felt threatened or otherwise challenged.  ‘Whining’ Noctis had called it. ‘Bitching’ had been Gladio’s observation. He learned in his late childhood that there was a benefit in energetic cheerfulness outside of making him more popular with his peers-- it was a good outlet for his anxious energy most time, and an _excellent_ mask.

But sometimes the snarky comments dipped too close to the real anxieties-- the vast _ocean_ of them under his thin skin-- and people didn’t like it.  But he couldn’t help it.

“I mean look how dark and narrow it is.  I sure hope we _definitely_ spend a lot of time in there.  I’m sure it’s _great_ for breathing and moving freely.”

He needed to stop.  Even though every muscle in his body was trying to jump out of his skin at the prospect of going _in that hole_ carved in the earth.  Even though he needed to say something to keep from sobbing and chattering his teeth, he needed to _shut up_.  His other friends had been exasperated with this habit, and the groups of bandits that had captured him had usually…

…

Well the _l_ _ast_ ones had punched him to the ground before wrapping their hands around his throat…

_Stop stop stop…_

… until he couldn’t breathe and his tear-stung vision blurred red and black…

_Stop!  Six please stop!_

Another group before that had kept him in a trunk, only taking him out once or twice a day to eat, toilet, and… be useful…

Prompto thought he was going to start screaming, shrill and hysterical as that small cavern opening loomed in front of them.  He was going to start screaming and his companions were going to leave him alone here...

Or bury him in there--

 

A hand slipped into his and he turned his head to look.  Ariel was there, wearing not-quite-a-smile. It was a soft, warm expression, and Prompto wondered just how much shit he’d be given if he just wrapped his arms around her and buried his face in her chest like a little boy.  He gripped her hand tightly instead while the very-false, paper-thin smile on his face crumbled into the open apprehension he felt.

It was ok.  She didn’t hate him.  Even if he was afraid and acting like an annoying brat about it.  It was ok. She wasn’t going to hurt him. (Silly, that he thought she might.  Like she was capable of being cruel…) She wasn’t going to leave him.

 

It was then he realized that Nyx and Cor had stopped, and they weren’t saying anything either.  No teasing, no admonishments, no encouraging. They stood only a few feet ahead of him and weren’t going forward.

Prompto watched Cor’s throat work, eyebrows furrowed, lips pressed in a thin line.  Nyx’s brows were also furrowed, and his mouth had the faint twist to them that always revealed he was bothered.

Both of them were bothered.

But…

Not because of _him_.

Watching them a few moments, Prompto realized that _they_ \-- _them,_ Cor the Immortal and Nyx the Hero!  These two guys who took on daemons and Nifs and gangs of violent bandits!-- were bothered by the cavern too.

Nyx made a frustrated sound in his throat, lips twisting further into a snarl for a moment, before he glanced at Cor.  Cor did not glance back, but both his hands flinched and flexed as if they had minds of their own.

Prompto had seen this before…

Still holding his hand, Ariel moved forward between the two older men, taking point.  Taking responsibility.

She was going to shepherd her broken men through this nightmare, same as she ever did.

* * *

 

 

“I-I’m claustrophobic,” Prompto confessed into her collarbone, finding comfort in wedging his head under her jaw and breathing in the scent of her skin.  Equally comforting was Nyx’s weight draped over both of their legs, head cradled against Prompto’s hip.

“I’m not,” He said, the humor in his tone high and forced, then-- as if hearing it for himself--snorted, “Well I _wasn’t_ … before…”

“It’s alright,” Ariel assured them both quietly, working her fingers through Nyx’s hair while she leaned back against Cor’s chest, “We’ll be through tomorrow and then the majority of the Nif forces will be on the other side of a ridge from us.”

Cor said nothing.  Prompto heard him breathing slow and steadily into the crown of Ariel’s head, felt his forearms flex around her middle where they were pressed between his body and hers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Got questions? Want to talk about it? [Here's your mic! ](https://mtraki.tumblr.com/ask)


	2. Homesickness

“You really can’t tell me the kind of fish you used to eat in Galahd?” Ariel’s brow furrowed with the ghost of impatience tucked in with her incredulity.

“I really can’t!” Nyx replied with a grin, though the creases around his eyes were insisting she leave off this conversation.

They’d arrived at the quay some ten minutes ago after a long, hard journey dodging Nif patrols and raiders.  The threat of raiders had made the resort edgy, and so even Cor Leonis’s name wasn’t enough to get them in without a reservation.  Management was working it out, but in the meantime, they had made their way to the haven just in case. There was plenty of daylight, but they were tired.

Still, Ariel hadn’t minded.  It was the first time in a long time she’d seen the sea, and her delight was enough for Prompto to make the wait for a bath and comfortable beds worth it.  But then she’d started talking about Altissia, and in her heartfelt nostalgia, had remembered that Nyx had  _ also _ grown up in an archipelago whose sustenance came primarily from the sea, and she’d asked…

“... Why not?”   
“It’s not a conversation we can have, Ariel.”

Now she frowned, hands moving unconsciously to her hips and Prompto felt his chest clench up in apprehension as a line of tension chased down Nyx’s neck and back when he saw it too.

_ Don’t!  Don’t fight! _

“Don’t be silly.  It’s something we have in common.”

“No it’s not.”

“Yes it is!  Why won’t you just--”

“--Ariel.” There was a note of warning in Nyx’s tone, but Ariel was too busy with her own frustration to hear it and know it.

Prompto searched for his voice to try and distract them, but he couldn’t  _ breathe _ .

Cor looked up from the pack, searching for his cellphone’s spare battery.  Prompto had hoped  _ he’d  _ say something, but…

“--Just tell me!  We can  _ talk _ about this!”

“ _ No we can’t! _ ” The Kingsglaive exploded at her, face contorting as his voice raised, blood rushing to turn it blotchy, “We have nothing in common looking  _ back _ , dammit!   _ Fuck _ !   _ Your _ home rolled over and played  _ lapdog _ to the Empire and when Lucis dropped the wall  _ we fought _ until the  _ bloody, bitter end _ .  My hometown was  _ burned to the ground _ while you were enjoying your  _ canapes _ on some fucking pier!  Remember  _ that _ next time you want to  _ compare notes _ , princess!  We can’t talk about it because you don’t want to  _ hear it! _ ”

Prompto didn’t know what kind of effect, precisely, Nyx had been going for-- what he might have  _ meant _ to say-- but Ariel’s face was bloodless, staring at him.  Then she shivered and they watched tears well.

Nyx swore in his mother tongue and turned his back, storming off down the beach.  Prompto took a step toward Ariel--

“Prompto.” Cor called sharply, “Help me with this.”

“But--”

Cor didn’t answer, just met his eyes, and Prompto knew there was no arguing.  So he went over, feeling awful every step.

“... But she’s  _ crying _ .”  He said quietly after crouching next to the Marshal, numbly taking the things handed to him.

“Let her.” Cor grunted, “She won’t if you go to her.”

“But…”

“You don’t want to be in the middle.  They’ll work it out.”

“He… he shouldn’t have--”

“--She pushed him.  You heard the whole thing.”

“Yeah… but…”

“They’ll work it out.” Cor sighed, “They’re… very similar people.  From very different places with very different values.”

Frowning, Promtpo said, “... Like talking about the past?”

“Altissia embraces history.  Legacy. They built a beautiful nation on the sea and are rightfully proud.  Galahd lives for the present, because the land and everything on it-- even the  _ weather _ \-- is harsh.  Looking back costs you the present, and that gets you killed.  More than that… Altissia thrives on romance and Galahd doesn’t.  Nyx lingering on what he has lost is not a point of pride. Ariel doing so, at least in Altissia, makes her more attractive.”

“... That’s not like Insomnia at all.”

“No.”

The blond looked at the older man, at the lines of sober introspection in his face, “... Do you miss it?”

“Sometimes.”

“... Yeah.”

* * *

It was hard.  It was hard watching her sit alone, huddled on the sand, feet being washed by the surf, but Cor reminded him again not to get in the middle.

Prompto took a photo-- he couldn’t resist.  She was always so beautiful, and the sea seemed to sparkle and shine with her tears-- and when he lowered the camera again, he saw Nyx move to crouch down beside her.

He couldn’t hear what they were saying over the waves, but he saw her turn into his chest when he wrapped an arm around her shoulders.

Prompto felt tears sting his eyes as a vice release in his chest.  A rough hand ruffled through his hair from behind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Got questions? Want to talk about it? [Here's your mic! ](https://mtraki.tumblr.com/ask)


	3. "Cake | Cor doesn’t celebrate his birthday | Cor gets thrown a surprise birthday party"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This was my Day 7 submission for Cor Week 2018.

It was a strange morning.  For whatever reason Cor’s body was plagued with a dragging lethargy, despite getting plenty of sleep– more, in fact, than he’d grown accustomed to.  Maybe that was the issue…

Maybe that also explained the quiet, but insistent nagging in the back of his mind that he was forgetting something.

It didn’t explain the other strange things about the morning: like how instead of gathered around for breakfast, the others were scattered in disparate activity.  Or how Prompto was avoiding him.  Again.  Or as well as any of them could avoid one another without leaving the confines of the camp.  It was in the way he refused to meet his look– turning another direction or ducking to the side, busying himself with nothing.

But here was Ariel, bringing him a steaming mug and a smile, pressing the metal and ceramic into his hands before leaning up to kiss him on the cheek, “Good morning.  Hungry?”

“Mm,” He agreed into the lip of the mug, welcoming the bitter taste and warmth of coffee only barely sweetened.  It wasn’t burnt, so she must have made it.  Prompto didn’t drink it, and Nyx claimed to like it long over the coals.  Before the young woman could continue on, he caught her wrist, and her dark eyes returned to his face, “What’s wrong with Prompto?”

Cor watched confusion flicker over her expression before she gave the blond an inquisitive look herself, “Nothing…?  What’s wrong with Prompto?”

“He’s avoiding me.”

“Really?” She frowned, lips pursing slightly, “Do you want me to ask him about it?”

“… No.” And Cor sipped again, releasing his companion, deciding he could ask himself.

“Hey Prompto.”

The blond nearly jolted out of his boots and turned to stare wide-eyed, “Y-y-y-yess-sir?”

“What’s wrong?”

“N-nothing’s wrong!” Was the reply with the most unconvincing delivery possible, secrecy and guilt flashing through every line in his face and body.

“Nothing besides how we’re suddenly out of fire-starters and potions,” snarked Nyx as he came back from where he’d been rummaging through their supplies, “Seemed _somebody_ shorted the two we had out…”

“That wasn’t–”

“–Oh no?  You’re the only one who uses them for stuff other than lighting fires for cooking, kid.”  Ulric had mastered the technique of delivering an effective guilt-trip with an incredibly cheerful tone.  The blond’s mouth worked uselessly while his face went from bleached bone to bright red.

“So now I gotta go get another one.  And an endless match like I said in the first place…” The Galahdian went on, just as cheerfully.

Furrowing his brow, thinking of their very light wallet, Cor countered, “… Do we really need replacements?  We have magic.”  
“Yeah most of the time we have magic.” Nyx shrugged, “If we’re all together, and Ariel and I are good to go.  If that checklist isn’t filled out, are we just gonna stay in the dark and eat cold food?  Come on…”

It was a strange morning when Nyx was thinking further ahead than he was… Cor shrugged, “You going now?”

“Yeah.  You coming?”

“… Sure.  Let me eat first.”

“I’ll get you a plate, old man.”

* * *

They were just crossing under the stone arches leading to Lestallum when Nyx looked at him, bemused, “Okay, what are you doing?”

Frowning back at him, Cor answered, “What.”

“You keep messing with your pockets.  Are you looking for something or just fondling yourself?”

“Funny.” Sighing, the Marshal withdrew his hands after verifying once again that he did have all his personal effects on his person and hadn’t misplaced one “… I can’t shake the feeling that I’ve forgotten something is all.”

“Really?  Like what?” The amusement on Nyx’s scarred face split into a full grin.

It was strange, suspicious almost, so Cor slowed his pace and spoke with more consideration, “… I don’t know.”

The Kingsglaive hadn’t slowed, and was continuing on ahead, casual and confident as ever, “Must be your age catching up with you.”

_Oh._

_Oh shit._

Cor stopped, “… My age.”

“It happens to the best of us, Marshal.  No reason to be dramatic about it.”

“… So that’s what was going on…”

Now Nyx turned and looked at him, back to the quirking eyebrow and lazy smirk, “Oh?”

Cor didn’t answer, he was too busy remembering how he’d strangely been the last one out of the tent, and how the others hadn’t been eating together but doing separate tasks around the camp.  How Ariel had come immediately to monopolize his attention.  How Prompto had been acting so strange and evasive.  Nyx’s sudden accusations…

“ _Ulric_ ,” He snarled, pinning the younger man with a glare, “you’re in on this.”

“In on what?”

“The three of you are planning something for today.  For my birthday.” Irritation throbbed through his guts, “… This is entirely unnecessary.”

“Some of us don’t agree.” Nyx shrugged.

“We don’t have resources or time to waste on celebrating a middle-aged has-been getting one year older.  You know I don’t want a fuss made over me.  At all.”

The amusement left Nyx’s face and he folded his arms, “Okay, I could agree with your sentiment until you called yourself a ‘has-been’.  If you’re a has-been, what does that make me?  Your self-depreciation has no place in this conversation, Cor.”

“What are they planning?”

“Nothing expensive.”

Irritation threatened to flare into anger, something cold etching along his bones.  Cor swallowed it back. “… I don’t want to waste time and energy with this.”

“Can I ask why?”

It was a reasonable request.  More reasonable than Cor was feeling, but he sighed slowly and pinched between his eyes, “Bad memories.  Birthdays were never a good time growing up.  Then… Re– _His Majesty_ found out about it, and tried to make… kind gestures.  A crown prince’s kindness looked a lot like _pity_ back then.  He and the others learned to… tone it down… over the years.  Now they’re gone, and I’m growing older without them.”

He wasn’t sure if Nyx would get it.  What he’d learned of Galahdian culture had reinforced their clannish, survival-focused customs– birthday celebrations were private affairs within close social circles.  Nyx might be left wondering if he and the others were somehow _outside_ Cor’s closest social circles.  But that wasn’t the case at all. It was just… the tradition.  Regis had re-framed the birthday tradition for Cor from what his childhood had made, and now that Regis and Clarus were gone, and Weskham and Cid far away… He just didn’t have the wherewithal to try and establish a new tradition without them.  It just didn’t _matter_ that much to him…

Nyx was looking at him, then he shrugged and dropped his arms to his sides, “Okay, sure.  I can get behind that.”  
“Thank you.”  
“It wasn’t ever _me_ you needed to convince.” Nyx’s smile was apologetic, “Come on, we still have shit to buy.”

_Shit…_

_Altissians_ had altogether much _different_ and _dramatic_ views on the cultural significance of birthdays and the commemoration of them.

* * *

“Please don’t.” Was all he said when he saw the camp.  It wasn’t, he admitted, as bad as Cor had dreaded.  No balloons or streamers.  No crowd of people.  Only Cid and Cindy, a small round cake, and a few small gifts wrapped in scrap paper and string.

And his two other companions who were thinking themselves very clever– though he thought Ariel looked a bit distressed, as if _keenly aware_ that unwritten rules from her childhood demanded that if she _really cared_ , she’d have arranged for so much _more_.

Prompto was happily preparing to snap photos.

“Happy birthday!” They all cried.

“Thank you.” He was suddenly glad that Nyx had insisted on a bottle of whiskey– which Ariel was coming over to take from him, along with the other supplies he and the Galahdian had carried.

“–I know.” She interjected before he could tell her, “You’re mad at me.  That’s fine.  It’s just a little cake and a few small gifts and your friends and then some shots of whiskey, okay?”

“Just so we’re clear.”

“Are ya _still_ on about all that, kid?” Cid groused at him, a scowl on his face but a grin hidden in the creases of his eyes, “When are you gonna grow outta bein’ such a _brat_?”

“Maybe after you do, you old coot.”

It was, after all, a nice little respite from the usual routine of their days of hard travel broken up by frantic battle, and when they settled down around the campfire with shots of whiskey, Cor could quietly admit to himself that it hadn’t been a waste of a day after all.  The cake, now gone, had been tasty and enjoyable– especially the satisfaction of smashing the remainder of a slice into the side of Nyx’s head so that frosting was still in bits of his hair and probably in his ear after the Kingsglaive had thought himself quick, clever, and ballsy enough to bump Cor’s forkful into his nose.  Prompto had graciously taken a slew of shots despite his laughter.

If either Hammerhead mechanic thought anything of how casually the four of them leaned and lounged on each other, they didn’t voice it.  Cor figured they knew– Cid most _certainly_ understood what he was looking at, even if he didn’t understand how it had happened.  Cid knew what kind of trust was needed to be able to casually touch Cor.

Honestly, he wasn’t sure how it had happened either.  It just had.  This was his family now, after Insomnia.  These were the people he wanted to go through the end of the world with.  Even if it took more than one birthday to get there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Got questions? Want to talk about it? [Here's your mic! ](https://mtraki.tumblr.com/ask)


	4. "What if Prompto were Kingsglaive instead of Crownsguard"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (This was a creative experiment suggested by ProwlingThunder about how things would be different or the same in this AU if Prompto turned out to be useful enough with magic to be Kingsglaive instead of Crownsguard.)
> 
> Due to his dubious origins and lack of self-confidence, Prompto would be a prime target for bullying in the unit. Naturally, Captain Drautos wouldn't suffer that kind of nonsense, which would ingratiate Prompto to him. It'd be easy to lay the seeds of dissent in his mind, but when push comes to shove, and people are going to get hurt...  
> Prompto has doubts...

Somehow, in all the chaos, he heard boot tread coming nearer. He was afraid it was Tredd or Luche to finish the job. To finish killing him. Everything hurt and he couldn’t move to try and get away or defend himself. He’d only _just_ managed icing over the wound in his chest in the hopes of stopping the bleeding, but at the risk of dropping his core temps. He was pretty sure his patch job wasn’t doing shit for the bleeding anyway. It was going to _suck_ dying like this—a traitor of the traitors. Belonging to nobody. Part of no brotherhood. Again.

Shit.

The footsteps stopped and a dark long shape appeared over him. It took him a moment to search his memory—it was the long, slightly curved sword that pinged him, and that perpetual stern look. Leonis, right? The Immortal. The King’s bodyguard. The Crownsguard Marshal.

“Still alive?” The man asked, stooping. Prompto had to warn him. Nothing else mattered. He was as good as dead anyway—no good to anybody, it seemed. He had to warn him about what was about to happen. Distantly, they both heard the explosion. That would be the Citadel, wouldn’t it?

Reaching up, he grabbed a fistful of the dark patterned shirt and the jacket, snaring back his attention, “The… Crystal. The… King…” The stern expression firmed into a scowl. “Drautos. Drautos… is… Glauca…” And he was a traitor to the king. And so was Tredd, and Luche, and him.

And him.

He was glad Noctis was out of the city by now… glad Drautos’s plan hadn’t included doing anything to him…

* * *

 

“Then what happened?” Ariel whispered, looking intently at Cor and Nyx, chin propped on her hands, elbows on her knees.

“I dropped a hi-potion on him and dragged him up and made him come with me. That’s when hell broke loose. Nyx told you this story already.”

“Did he help you?”

Cor shrugged, “He did what he could. He was still pretty banged up.”

Nyx was staring into the flames. Ariel felt for him. This was probably… very difficult. She was glad he was willing to talk about it—to share this with her, even if it hurt.

“You weren’t okay with him… after you knew…” She said softly.

“No.” Nyx said. “We were never close but… No. I lost friends because of this plot… but… But he was still my brother… even if he was a back-stabbing one.”

“… It was wrong,” Ariel agreed quietly, reaching over to run her fingertips over his flexing knuckles until he caught her hand in his, “… but I don’t know if I really blame him. I… I know what it’s like to be treated like a monster living in human skin.”

Then she slipped away from the both of them to the furthest edge of the light where Prompto was sitting, looking out into the night. She wrapped her arms around his neck and shoulders from behind and kissed his cheek.

“… She has you there.” Cor observed dryly.

“’Unwelcome pest’ yes… Straight ‘monster’? I guess not…” Nyx sighed. Then he grinned sideways at the older man, “… I’ll tell you what, he takes _cock_ like a monster, though…”

Without skipping a beat, Cor replied flatly, “’Unwelcome pest’ is too generous…”

Nyx laughed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Got questions? Want to talk about it? [Here's your mic! ](https://mtraki.tumblr.com/ask)


End file.
